


your lifeline, tonight

by middlecyclone



Category: American Bromance (Short Film)
Genre: Drunk Kissing, M/M, Missing Scene, beer pong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 20:04:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9011290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/middlecyclone/pseuds/middlecyclone
Summary: Zack’s not trying to start anything when he offers, he really isn’t; he just hears that Justin needs a beer pong partner, and Zack loves beer pong. It’s not any deeper than that.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blindmadness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blindmadness/gifts).



> For blindmadness: I stumbled upon your prompt late December 23rd and fell absolutely in love with both your prompt and the trailer, but I just didn't have time to do it justice. Despite that, I really wanted to write _something_ for the prompt, so think of this as the movie-length scene of the trailer party clip. I wish I'd given myself enough time to give Justin and Zack the full story they deserve, but for now I hope you enjoy this anyway!

Zack’s not trying to start anything when he offers, he really isn’t; he just hears that Justin needs a beer pong partner, and Zack loves beer pong. It’s not any deeper than that.

It _isn’t_.

Just because he’d noticed the wideness of Justin’s shoulders and the sullen set to his mouth the second he’d joined the fantasy football league does _not_ mean he’s got ulterior motives. Because Zack has dignity and class, and because Justin is hot but he’s an absolute _asshole_ , and because Zack is done with hooking up with straight guys, let alone straight guys that hate him for some inexplicable reason.

So when Zack says, “I’ll be your partner,” it is for absolutely no reason besides that he loves beer pong. That’s his story, and he’s sticking to it.

“Just don’t get in my way, okay,” Justin spits at him in response. “I don’t want you messing up my perfect record.”

Zack just looks at him, because he’s sick to death of listening to this dude’s bullshit, and he’s ready to prove him wrong. He doesn’t break eye contact, he doesn’t even blink, he just takes the ping pong ball and tosses it over his shoulder, feeling its perfect landing more than he sees it.

“You were sayin’?” he says, mouth twitching upwards at the sides, because he can’t resist, because Justin is a douchebag but Zack never claimed to be any better. Justin doesn’t smile, exactly, but there’s something not unlike judging respect in his eyes, and Zack has a really good feeling about tonight.

A _really_ good feeling.

They both turn to beer pong with matching laser focus, united in their goal of defeating their opponents with absolutely no mercy. They beat rival team after rival team and at some point, they stop being reluctant associates and start being enthusiastic allies. Zack’s not going to call it a turning point, because that would be ridiculous, but it isn’t not one either.

As the night goes on, they go from buzzed to hammered, until Justin is listing sideways into Zack’s side as they crush their competition into the ground and Zack can’t stop laughing, flushed and happy and high on victory.

“Okay, enough,” someone says eventually, after they’ve won their sixth consecutive game, “let someone else play,” and Justin steps back and grins at Zack, bright and triumphant.

“Whoa,” Zack says, almost involuntarily, and they’re standing _so_ close together, and he’d been pretty sure Justin was straight, but he can clearly see the way the other man’s eyes are tracking his mouth as he talks, and–

They’re both drunk; they’re both ready to do something stupid. Zack feels like he should probably try to summon up even the barest twinge of regret, but he truly can’t be bothered, so he throws caution to the wind and grabs Justin by the wrist, pulling him half a step closer.

“Come on,” Zack says, and Justin stares at him, eyes huge and dark, and swallows, and does.

They end up in a tiny hall closet, which is cliché enough that Zack almost considers laughing, but then Justin gets both hands on his shoulders and presses him up against the closed door, and suddenly laughing is the last thing on Zack’s mind.

“Yeah?” Justin whispers, and it’s all Zack can do to nod, and then Justin is leaning in and kissing him breathless and–

Zack had been sure it would be good, because for all he’s tried to pretend otherwise he’s been staring at Justin’s mouth basically since the second they met, but he hadn’t actually expected it to be _this_ good.

Because it’s _really_ fucking good; Justin’s mouth is hot and wet and tastes like cheap beer, and Zack can’t actually stop himself from licking into Justin’s mouth, running his tongue over the backs of his teeth, sucking on his lower lip. Justin pulls back and starts kissing Zack’s neck, scraping his teeth along his skin until he gets to his collarbone and sucks. Zack lets him go on for a while, until he’s sure he’s left a mark, but then he grabs at Justin’s hair and tugs him back until they’re kissing properly again, frantic and rushed and almost desperate in the dark cramped closet, until they’re both panting and hard in their jeans and Zack has to push Justin back, because again: he has class, he has dignity, and he doesn’t actually want to have sex in this linen closet.

“That was–” Justin says, voice hoarse.

“Yeah,” Zack agrees, sounding equally wrecked.

“Have you ever–” Justin starts to ask, and Zack grins at him, crooked, knowing how the question is going to end.

“I’m gay, dude,” he says, “so like–yeah.”

“I–have to go,” Justin says, sounding confused but not necessarily upset, and leaves. Zack lets him, because he knows this isn’t the end. They’ve got plenty of story left to tell.


End file.
